Monster Planet(92)

'Do you want a medal?' Sarah asked. 'I'll make sure you get a medal when this is over.'

He laughed and nodded appreciatively. 'Alright. What we have here,' he said, and grunted as he shoved open an enormous hangar door. It was counterweighted so it could be opened easily even without power but it was still huge. 'What we have here is American airpower at its finest. The HH-60 Jayhawk, which is just a United States Coast Guard version of the UH-60, I do not lie.'

The aircraft in the hangar had the stubby nose and long tail that just said 'helicopter'. There was little to distinguish its lines except its white and safety orange paint job.

'This is the workhorse of the US Army. Medium-range, medium-lift, twin engine, single prop, it stands up to any kind of duty you'd care to mention: medical evac, air cavalry, troop transport, point-to-point and my least favorite, direct air assault. It's the best helicopter ever built by human hands.'

Sarah peered into the darkness of the hangar. 'Medium-range? We're going quite a ways.' She tried to remember what she had learned of American geography. 'The Rocky Mountains, I think.'

Osman shuffled through the tech manuals in his hands and pulled out a heavily annotated military aviator's map of the country. Sarah pointed out the Source at once. With a laminated cardboard ruler Osman measured the distance, his thick fingers smoothing out the paper map as he went. 'A little under two thousand miles,' he told her. He scratched his beard. 'Fine, just fine. We'll need to stop once and refuel. There's a major air base here,' he said, pointing at a star on the map labeled Omaha. 'They'll have what we need.'

'We can just do that? The fuel won't have evaporated or gone stale in all this time?' Sarah asked.

'No problem, boss. Gasoline goes bad over time, that is true. Jet fuel, on the other hand, is just very pure kerosene. It lasts forever if it's stored properly.'

Sarah nodded and looked up at the helicopter. 'Okay, I'll take it.'

'Wonderful,' Osman said, and gestured broadly with his arms. 'Once again I get to fly to my certain death. It had better be a very large medal, with many ribbons.'

Sarah smiled and took some of the tech manuals from him. She was about to start looking for the fuel hoses when a shadow passed across the mouth of the hangar.

'Hi, Dad,' she said. Dekalb didn't look happy.

'Sarah. I thought we discussed this.' On his shoulder Gary looked like he'd gone to sleep, though Sarah knew better. 'I don't want you in harm's way. So please, just. Just step away from that helicopter.'

'I won't let Ayaan down,' she told him. Maybe if she could just talk him into going back to the house. Maybe if she just lied to him then he wouldn't notice when she left. 'Not when I've come this far already.'

'Fine,' he said, and stepped inside the hangar. 'Then I'll do it.'

It took her a second to realize he was serious. 'Dad, this isn't the time,' she insisted, but he was already climbing inside the helicopter.

Osman dropped what he was doing and came over to stand next to her. Slowly the pilot folded his arms across his chest. 'I know you from old times, dead man,' he said to Dekalb. 'I respect you for what I've seen you do. So I'll ask you nicely to get out of my vehicle.'

'Osman.' Dekalb looked at the pilot as if trying to place him. 'It's been so long. Please, take me to where Ayaan is. I have to dispatch her.'

Heat filled Sarah's throat. Was she about to cry? Somebody had to teach her father a lesson about reality. Somebody needed to point out his folly.

Why did it have to be her?

'Dad,' she said, very, very carefully. 'It's not up to you. This isn't your responsibility. It's mine.'

'I'm your only surviving parent, Sarah.' He wasn't even looking at her. 'You are my responsibility. Your safety.'

Sarah glanced back at Osman but the pilot had nothing for her. He had taught her before to finish off her own liches.

Her father wasn't going to give in without a fight. Clearly he'd decided that this was when he would make his big stand. 'I've lost too much already,' he told her. He glanced at Gary on his shoulder. The skullbug didn't so much as twitch. 'I forbid this. I mean it.'

'Stop this, Dad,' she tried.

'I died for you. I died so you could have some kind of life in Africa. Do you understand what that means? Do you understand what I gave up for you?'